


Second Impressions

by LostLoveLetters



Category: Walk on Water (Manhwa)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Established Relationship, Fluff, Friendship, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:54:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25155058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostLoveLetters/pseuds/LostLoveLetters
Summary: 5 Times Derek Reluctantly Approves and 1 Time Derek is a Supportive BroOr alternatively, 5 Times McQueen Earns Brownie Points with Derek
Relationships: Glenn McQueen | Cleed Schreiber / Ed Talbot | Park Yeowoon, Glenn McQueen/ Ed Talbot
Kudos: 35





	Second Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> Am I supposed to be updating my other fics that people have waited forever for me to update?  
> Yes.
> 
> Did I get distracted?  
> Also yes.
> 
> Enjoy! (￣▽￣*)ゞ

**1.**

Derek raises an eyebrow at the different shades of red splattered messily over the black painted canvas. He does not really get art, much less abstract art.

He skeptically eyes the rest of the rest of the paintings mounted on the pristine white walls. They are all variations of the same theme, sharp lines of crimson violently slashing through the black, bright red brushstrokes on top of darker red swatches, or just copious amounts of red paint dripping down the large canvas like the aftermath of a murder scene from those late night detective and crime TV shows.

He reads the name of the art exhibition: Red.

Huh. Derek mentally shrugs. At least the name is straightforward. Although whoever the artist is must be one angry dude or lady. The amount of red in this art gallery screams serial killer vibes. Bad breakup, maybe?

Whatever. At least, working art galleries isn’t so bad. It’s a pain standing in one spot for so long, but it’s not like anyone is actually going to pull a heist and steal any of these paintings. It’s a downtown art opening, so it isn’t a museum or some long lost collection of Leonardo da Vinci or something ridiculously prestigious.

Also, he does not have to fend off any large crowd of teenage girls screeching for an autograph from their favorite singer, so there’s a definite plus.

Derek adjusts his tie and straightens up, making sure to keep his expression neutral as another group of spectators walk past him to gaze at the right wall of yet another series of red paintings. Laughter and excited chattering rises above the clear, sharp tinkering of champagne flutes that the servers are passing around periodically.

He does not really get the artsy, hipster crowd either. Derek watches the rather stout, short guy in his forties, standing a couple of feet to his right, grab what must be his fifth glass from the nearby server.

Maybe the alcohol heightens the art experience. Derek frowns as the guy sways ominously in front of the painting. Or maybe not. Either way, he is pretty sure the only reason the gallery hired security is to handle the drunks before they make a scene.

He sighs. He turns his head to share a disbelieving glance with Ed from across the room but instead, Ed is glancing down at his phone with a frown. Derek pauses. Ed looks kind of worried. There is a telltale furrow between his eyebrows. Ed taps the screen a few times before he looks up and their eyes meet.

Derek raises an eyebrow to express a silent “Hey, man, is everything ok?” but Ed apparently takes that as a “Hey, man, you’re distracted there” because he winces in apology, slips the phone back into his pocket, accurately surveys the room in what seems to be 2.5 seconds, and strides over to the drunk man. Derek watches blankly as Ed gently guides the man over to the side and presumably suggests to him to step outside to sober off because the man nods and ambles out the front door.

Alright. That’s . . . not what he meant.

He glances over at Ed who returns back to his post, eyes on the gallery now. Derek sighs. He’ll have to ask Ed after their shift then.

The showing fortunately lasts for only another 2 hours, but it is a whole two hours that consist of avid art fans peering fascinatedly at the paintings like the universe’s secrets are slathered somewhere between the layers of crimson paint, people who are definitely there more for the champagne than for the art judging by the frequency in which they intercept the servers, and an anxious Ed who does not take out his phone again but taps his fingers restlessly against his leg every so often.

By the time their shift ends, Derek is starting to feel anxious himself, dread twisting through him. Shit. He really hopes Ed is not in trouble again.

He hurries to catch up to Ed who walks distractedly out the door, phone in hand. Derek falls into step next to him and tries to ask casually, “What’s up? You look stressed.”

Ed slides his thumb over the screen and answers without looking up, “Cecil fed Empa some milk by accident.”

Derek blinks. He knows Empa is Ed’s cat, but he does not recognize the other name. “Cecil?”

Ed scrolls through his texts presumably and explains, still distracted, “My roommate’s daughter. She didn’t realize that Empa was lactose intolerant.”

Oh, yeah, Ed did mention something about his roommate having a kid too. Relief floods through him. And here he thought Ed got mixed up into some shady shit again.

Derek immediately winces at himself. Actually, no, that’s probably not fair to Ed to assume that. Guy was worried about his cat, for Pete’s sake.

Rubbing his neck and feeling sheepish for jumping to wild conclusions, he awkwardly asks, “Ah. Oh. Is uh, everything ok?”

Ed looks up at him then, expression wry, and summarizes frankly, “Empa threw up. Cecil got scared.”

Derek winces. That’s not a good scenario. He frowns and asks, “You should have said something. You need to go to the vet?”

It wasn’t even that big of a gallery showing. The only security there was Ed and him. Honestly, Derek could have covered for him, and no one would have been the wiser.

Ed shakes his head and answers placidly, “I asked McQueen to come over and check.” Derek blinks. Ed looks back at his phone and continues, “But I don’t know if Empa is better yet.”

Silence settles upon them on the sidewalk as Ed reads through his missed texts. Derek grimaces. He still does not understand Ed’s choice of a boyfriend. Hell, it still blows his mind that Ed is with a guy in the first place. Skeptical, he asks, “So, uh, did he come?”

Ed thankfully does not notice Derek’s doubt and nods, tone stark with relief. “He said that Empa had diarrhea too, but seems calmer now, so everything should be okay.”

“That’s good,” Derek comments, genuinely happy at the news for Ed. It would suck if something happened to Empa. Ed loves his cat.

Ed nods again and hums, “I’m going to head home.” He looks up at Derek with a smile and prompts, “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, of course, man,” Derek says immediately with a grin. He waves at Ed as he crosses the street and calls out, “Hope Empa feels better!”

He looks up at the dark purple night sky and glances at his watch. It’s close to midnight. Even if Ed had messaged McQueen earlier, it still would have been considered late on a workday. Derek frowns. He hates to admit it, but it’s pretty good of the guy to rush over to take care of a sick cat and calm down a probably panicking kid.

Agh. What is he saying? Shoving his hands in pockets, Derek starts walking again, exasperated. A sick animal and a crying kid? That’s – that’s like the very baseline of being a decent person! So the guy managed to do what everyone with a heart would. So what? It’s going to take a lot more than that to convince him that McQueen is alright for Ed.

**2.**

Derek tries not to notice because it’s not like he wants to be a nosy busybody. Things are pretty good between Ed and him now. He does not want to mess up the friendship that they finally just reclaimed.

But . . . well, Ed has a bad habit of not asking for help when he needs it. And Derek does not want to make the mistake of leaving Ed alone and being painfully oblivious to the signs of his friend struggling ever again.

So when Ed’s phone vibrates during their break for the fourth day in a row and Ed sighs whenever he pulls out his phone to answer, Derek’s mind immediately drags up familiar, bad scenarios. More specifically, he thinks of that bastard Chang.

God, he hates that guy.

Ed has not mentioned Chang ever since he came back, but it’s not hard to connect the dots. He must be calling Ed again over the ridiculous debt that he keeps holding over Ed’s head. Derek scowls. What a snake.

Ed types out a text. Derek watches him – Oh, screw it - and finally asks, “Is that Chang again?”

To his surprise, Ed pauses and tilts his head to look at him questioningly. “No.”

Oh. Derek blinks. When Ed does not elaborate any further, Derek prompts curiously, “Who is it then?”

Ed shrugs as he frowns at his phone. “McQueen.”

Immediately, his mood sours. Ah, that guy. Derek eyes Ed’s phone suspiciously. What did McQueen do that has Ed so annoyed?

He crosses his arms and asks warily, “Did something happen?”

Ed shakes his head and answers nonchalantly, “Not really. He just likes checking in.”

Checking in? Every day? For what? Derek frowns. Isn’t that too overbearing? He clears his throat and asks brusquely, “Yeah? And what is he checking in for?”

Man, he knew the guy was bad news.

Ed raises an eyebrow at Derek’s tone, no doubt noticing his disapproval. Shrugging, he replies slowly, “He thinks I don’t eat enough. Or that I forget to eat when we’re busy with work. So he keeps asking if I ate yet.”

Derek blinks, caught off guard. He surveys Ed, eyes flicking over the sharper cheekbones and the way his shirt fits looser around him than before. Huh. When did Ed lose so much weight? Reluctantly, he comments, “I hate to admit it, but he has a point. You could use a burger.” He pauses, looks Ed over once more, and adds, “Or three.”

Ed stares at him, clearly not expecting him to agree. He replies tersely, “I eat.”

“Have you today?” Derek wonders aloud because now that he thinks about it, they had a job today early in the morning, and he only recalls seeing Ed down two cups of coffee.

Ed frowns at him and answers rather defensively, “I’m not hungry yet. My appetite is just slow these days.”

Derek lifts an eyebrow. “So you haven’t.”

“You’re starting to sound like him,” Ed mutters as he looks away with a sigh.

“Yeah? Well, maybe eat some more calories and stop making me agree with him,” Derek complains without hesitation. “Geez, and here I thought it was over something else.”

“What did you think it was about?” Ed asks curiously.

Like he was a controlling bastard or something, he automatically thinks. Derek bites his tongue though and wisely swallows the words down. That would be pushing the line on being an asshole if he accuses his best friend’s lover that he already made a point of disliking for something that has no actual basis.

Before he could fumble for an excuse, Ed’s phone thankfully vibrates again. Ed peers down at the phone and makes a surprised sound. He gets up from the bench and murmurs, “Sorry. I need to take this outside for a minute.”

Derek watches blankly as Ed hurries down the hallway. What is that about?

He sighs and leans back against the wall. He lazily glances out the glass wall into the hotel’s rose garden. Damn. How long is this forum going to take? Another hour?

He is absentmindedly counting the outlined squares running through the dark blue carpet when the sound of footsteps approaches. Derek looks up to see a breathless Ed with a white paper bag and a drink tray with what looks like two coffees.

“I know I said you should eat, but that was fast,” Derek notes with surprise. “Where did you get that by the way?”

Ed sits down and carefully sets the items down on the bench. He does not look at Derek and answers somewhat sheepishly, “McQueen dropped them off.”

Oh. Derek pauses. “Huh,” he says finally, not sure what else to say. It _is_ pretty considerate of the guy. He eyes the bag once more and comments a little incredulously, “He drove all the way here to deliver you food?”

Ed shakes his head as he pulls out what looks like a bagel sandwich out of the bag. “No. He happened to be in the area for a meeting. In one of the nearby coffee shops.”

Surprisingly, Ed pushes the bag to Derek. Derek blinks, hands reflexively grabbing the paper bag. “Why are you giving this to me?”

Ed shrugs and says blithely, “He bought two. Obviously, I can’t eat them both.”

Derek’s eyes flick to the coffees, also in a set in a two. Clearly, the guy deliberately bought two. He frowns.

As if reading his thoughts, Ed raises an eyebrow, expression amused and unoffended, and offers, “You don’t have to eat it, if you’re not hungry. I’ll pass it off to someone else.”

Derek stares at him and then at the bag. He sighs and grudgingly opens it. “Oh, whatever. I’ll eat it, alright?”

Ed does not snicker but his eyes are bright with amusement as he pointedly pushes one of the coffees over to Derek as well.

Derek takes a careless bite of the still warm bagel. It’s good. Now that he thinks of it, he feels pretty hungry. He takes another bite, savoring the taste of the cream cheese with the ham and the melted cheddar. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches Ed smirking as he eats his own bagel. Derek swallows the bite and immediately feels the urge to add, “I don’t like wasting food.”

“Right.”

“He can’t bribe me with food, you know. I don’t change my mind that easily.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Derek stares unhappily at Ed who is clearly indulging him because there is an irritatingly amused grin on his face. That won’t do at all. He grabs the coffee and takes a sip, protesting, “I – Ack! “ Derek coughs mid-sentence and nearly spits out the mouthful of pure bitterness. What the hell? He opens the lid and peers at the dark liquid inside the cup. He splutters, “Fuck, is this straight up black coffee?” 

Ed munches on his bagel before he shrugs and lifts an eyebrow. “I don’t take mine with anything.”

“ _What kind of monster are you_?” Derek demands, aghast. How could Ed drink that? It tastes like death. He shoves the bagel back into his mouth and tears a huge chunk off, desperately chewing to scrape the awful bitterness off his tongue.

Ed laughs and nudges him on the shoulder. “You’re such a kid.”

“Yeah, well, some of us don’t like killing off our taste buds just to get our caffeine fix,” Derek retorts. Ed laughs again. He pauses because huh, it’s been a while since he heard Ed laugh and joke like this. It’s rare but good, seeing a happy, relaxed Ed. Grinning a bit himself, Derek drawls, “Seriously, man, your coffee doesn’t need to be angsty and edgy too, you know.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Derek grins and munches on his bagel in answer. In the back of his mind, he notes that McQueen remembers the way Ed apparently likes his coffee.

Huh.

* * *

He does not ask again when he hears Ed’s phone ring during their breaks anymore. Derek does, however, hurl an energy bar at Ed if he happens to have one on hand. Ed looks deeply annoyed whenever he does it. Derek thinks, amused, that Ed is probably really close to strangling either him or McQueen.

Ed does need to eat more though, so he is definitely not going to stop McQueen’s efforts. If anything, as much as he hates to admit it, it is a good thing that McQueen is concerned about Ed’s well-being, even if he is just making sure Ed does not starve.

**3.**

_Rat-a-tat. Rat-a-tat._

Rain drums down hard on the tarp like a loud, overly enthusiastic percussion band. Derek frowns and glances out at the slate grey sky. The darkening clouds shroud the sun, ominous and heavy with the promise of more rain.

If this keeps up over the weekend too, their gig at the outdoor auditorium might be canceled.

He ducks under the tarp canopy and yanks the hood of his windbreaker over his head. Some of the nearby vendors peer anxiously at the sky. Derek frowns. The festival is probably going to close up a lot earlier than expected if the rainfall gets any heavier.

“Hey, they need help over by the fountain.”

Derek glances up at the sound of Ed’s voice and catches only the blur of black and blue. Ed already heading off in said direction. He sighs and ducks out of the canopy into the freezing rain. “Alright, wait up.”

He follows after and notices with concern the way Ed limps slightly. Shit, his ankle must be acting up again.

Derek sighs. He will have to catch Ed again after their shift is over.

* * *

He digs through the locker and yanks out the duffel bag. Frowning, he roughly rummages through the bag. He should still have one, right? Unless he forgot or switched – Oh, aha! Derek’s fingers tighten around the cool metal can of pain reliever spray. Taking it out, he shoves it into his pocket and walks over to Ed rifling through his locker for a dry jacket.

Derek plops down on the bench and gestures for Ed to sit down. “Come here.”

“Hmm?”

He crooks his fingers again. When Ed only stares at him in confusion, Derek sighs and yanks him down on the bench. He taps Ed’s leg and prompts, “Let me see.”

“Derek? What –” Ed makes a sound of surprise as Derek impatiently lifts Ed’s leg up onto the bench. “What are you doing?”

“Yeah, Derek. What are you doing? Feeling him up out in the open? How bold of you.” Derek stiffens, anger and offense streaking through him like a red bolt of lightning. Underneath his fingers, he can feel Ed’s muscles tense even though outwardly, Ed’s expression stays neutral and indifferent. Jaw clenching, he sharply turns his head and glowers at Xavier, a guy with closely cropped dark hair and a stocky build standing in the corner of the room. There is a mean glint to Xavier’s gray eyes that Derek dislikes. Xavier nods towards them and sneers, “Then again, if the rumors are true, Ed probably does not mind huh?”

Abrupt silence settles upon the locker room. What a goddamn, shitty bastard. Derek scowls at him and bites out, “Fuck off, Xavier.” He ignores the warning glance that Ed gives him and straightens up from the bench. He lifts an eyebrow in challenge and warns, voice low, “Before you piss me off.”

Xavier’s expression turns ugly, eyes narrowing back at him in defiance. He takes a step forward, Derek smirks. Oh, bring it, fucking asshole. Before Xavier moves any further though, James, one of the newer hires, snorts and says exasperatedly, “Oh give it a rest, Xavier. It’s not funny.”

The blonde zips up his bag, slings it over his shoulder, and pointedly stands in front of Derek.

Zach, right next to James, leans out from his locker and frowns over at Xavier too. “Stop being an asshole, man.”

Xavier looks them over, most likely reconsidering his odds, before he clucks his tongue. “Tcch.” The bastard flips them off – Derek cheerfully returns it – and stalks away.

Good riddance.

The room immediately breaks out in whispers, and curious glances dart over to Derek and Ed. Derek has to bite his cheek to suppress the litany of curses on his tongue.

James shakes his head and echoes Derek’s sentiment. “He’s such a dick.” He readjusts his bag on his shoulder and looks towards them with a smile. “See you guys tomorrow?”

Derek grins back, pleased. James seems like a solid guy. He claps him on his back and says good-naturedly, “Yeah, man. Take care.”

Ed looks taken back when James turns to him expectantly too, but he says with a half-smile, “Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

Zach turns to go too, earphones already jammed in his ears, but he nods to them as he passes by. “Later, Derek. Later, Ed.”

Derek waves to him and then sits back down on the bench. He reaches out for Ed’s leg again. Ed jerks a bit in surprise and looks at him curiously. “What are you doing?”

Derek rolls his eyes. “What do you mean what am I doing? Your ankle always hurts when it’s raining. Seriously, man, just call in sick when this happens.” He shakes his head and rolls up the damp pant leg. “You always push yourself too hard and never take care of –” His voice trails off as he stares down at Ed’s ankle in surprise. His eyes rove over the rectangular, white pain relief patches applied all around the ankle. There are even strips of ace bandages neatly wrapped around the heel and ankle to for additional support.

Derek blinks. Well, this is a first. Usually he has to play nurse because Ed has a bad habit of brushing aside his pain like it is only a minor inconvenience and not an angrily throbbing ankle in need of immediate bedrest. He glances at the ankle once more and asks disbelievingly, “You already wrapped it?”

Ed rolls his eyes and says flatly, “I am not a kid.”

“Uh-huh. Right.” Derek lifts an eyebrow. He surveys Ed who shifts, lips pursed unhappily and expression petulant. Suspicious, Derek accuses, “You didn’t wrap it yourself, did you?” Ed is silent, which answers his question well enough. Derek thinks for another moment – Hmm, who did then? - and then guesses, “McQueen did?”

Ed shifts again before he admits, “He noticed.” He glances down at his ankle, cheeks reddening, and mutters, “And he overreacted.”

McQueen really didn’t, and Derek says as much, “Nope. Seems to me the right reaction when you’re hobbling all over the place.” He smirks when Ed shoots him an exasperated glare. He is kind of pleased actually because Ed frankly fails at self-care. Derek cannot remember the number of times he had to drag Ed to the side to wrap his ankle because god knows, if he did not, Ed would have just endured the pain without a word of complaint.

It’s good to know there is someone else keeping an eye on him too.

Standing up, Derek stretches his arms and mumbles aloud, “I guess that’s another point.”

Ed overhears him and looks at him curiously. “What?”

Derek shakes his head and ambles back to his locker. “Nah, nothing.”

**4.**

“You’re seriously so stubborn,” Derek complains. He jabs a thumb towards the dark violet sky and continues disapprovingly, “It’s really late, man. Let me give you a ride.”

To his growing frustration, Ed shakes his head and says mildly, “You don’t even live near where I do. It’s out of your way.”

Their shift ended two hours later than it was supposed to because some of the spectators got unruly at the already late night event. So it’s really, really late out now, the kind of late in which Derek thinks Ed is a freaking idiot not to take up Derek’s offer of a ride.

Derek scowls and points out, “You said your car broke down. How are you even getting home, huh?”

“The subway still runs,” Ed replies placidly, much to Derek’s exasperation.

The subway? Agh. Just before he can voice his opinion of Ed’s decision to try his luck on wait times at whatever-the-fuck o’clock it is right now, a car horn honks shrilly. At the second honk, they both pause on the sidewalk and turn towards the car from across the street.

Derek blinks when a familiar looking blonde steps out with a raised eyebrow at them. Derek taps his phone and glances down at the bright screen. 2:05 am. Huh.

Ed wonders aloud, sounding just as surprised, “What is he doing here?”

“To pick your dumb ass up, obviously,” Derek says dryly because finally, he does not have to worry about the very real possibility of Ed getting mugged or something. Ed looks flatly at him. Derek smirks back. “At least your boyfriend has more sense than you do.”

Before Ed can reply, McQueen heads towards them. Ed glances at Derek who grins teasingly at him, and resigned, he moves to meet McQueen midway.

Derek cannot help but overhear them because they’re right there within earshot but also because he is shamelessly curious:

“What are you doing here?”

“To pick you up, of course. I called your cell earlier, but you didn’t answer. I called Ryan too, and he said you didn’t come back yet. So I figured you were still working.”

“Oh. I guess my phone died. (Derek’s eye twitches at this because what the hell Ed? Your phone died and you still wanted to go on the subway this late at night?) Did you wait long?”

“No, not really.”

“You didn’t have to come, you know. It’s really late.” 

“I know. That’s why I came.”

“Don’t you have a meeting tomorrow morning?”

“Yes, but it’s fine. Really, Ed. I don’t mind. Are you ready to go?”

Ed shifts, clearly wanting to press McQueen further, but he nods and agrees. Then, as if finally remembering Derek, Ed turns back to face him with a sheepish expression. “See you tomorrow, Derek?”

“Yeah. Night, Ed,” Derek returns easily and waves him off. He glances at McQueen and meets his gaze. He pauses and nods to McQueen.

McQueen returns the gesture, expression a bit curious and wary, but he leads Ed back to the car.

Derek hums as he heads towards his own car. Well, he supposes that’s another point.

**5.**

Derek takes another long draught of the cold beer. He eyes Ed from over the rim of his glass. Ed leans back tiredly against the leather booth and stares morosely into his own pint of beer like maybe the answer to whatever troubles him will float up to the surface of the amber liquid. In short, he looks like a kicked puppy, and it makes Derek’s conscience itch.

He sighs and gives in. Putting the pint down, he asks, “So what’s up?”

“Nothing,” Ed answers without even looking up.

Derek purses his lips and complains, “You’re going to make me ask, aren’t you?”

At that, Ed furrows his eyebrows and finally looks up, confused. “Ask what?”

“Is everything good with you and McQueen?” he asks bluntly.

Surprise flits across Ed’s expression before he raises an eyebrow and says, “I thought you said not to talk to you about him.”

Derek shrugs and lifts up the pint again. “Yeah, well. Part of going out for drinks at the end of the week is to vent. It’s not fair if I’m the only one venting.” He waves his hand carelessly and drawls, “So vent.”

Besides, there is no point in avoiding talking about McQueen if that is what has Ed looking so unhappy. And . . . maybe it was kind of harsh of Derek to say that to Ed too. He cannot be the only one bitching about his relationships or lack thereof here.

Ed regards him for a moment before he gives a small smile and answers, “Thanks, but nothing is happening though. Everything’s good with McQueen and me.” He takes a sip of his beer.

Bullshit. Unimpressed, Derek presses, “But?”

Ed glances at him. Derek raises his eyebrows and gestures impatiently. Ed sighs and gives in. “It’s just . . .” His voice trails off. Ed bites his lips and admits, “We had an argument.”

“About?”

“Since I have a free weekend, he wants to go on a trip.” Ed taps the table idly as he continues, “But he wanted it to be a surprise, so he wouldn’t tell me where we’re going.” He frowns and tilts his head towards the window. “Except it’s raining now and the weather forecast says there will be a storm over the weekend. So he’s disappointed that his plans are canceled.”

Derek blinks and says slowly, “I’m – I’m not getting what the argument here is.”

“I told him it didn’t matter.” Ed frowns, forehead creasing, as he continues, irritation seeping into his tone, “He said that I did not understand. And I don’t. We don’t have to go anywhere special. He does not have to waste a ridiculous amount of money on a fancy hotel or a restaurant when we can just stay at home.”

Ed’s frown deepens. He takes a bigger gulp of his beer and looks expectantly back at Derek.

Derek mentally flails under the stare because oh, so this is what it feels like to be on the other end of the venting session. It feels weird. Ed never asks Derek for dating advice. In fact, he never mentions anything relationship-wise at all. He starts hesitantly, “That’s . . . true. Staying home is fine too, I guess.” He swallows another gulp of beer and suggests, “Unless it’s some special occasion? And he wanted to take you out to celebrate?”

Ed freezes like a deer in headlights and answers slowly, “. . . There isn’t . . . a special occasion.”

Except his voice lilts at the last word, and it comes off more as a question than a statement. Derek takes one look at Ed’s wide-eyed expression and points out, “You don’t sound really sure about that.”

Ed frowns, expression considering before he finally shakes his head and says more certainly, “No. I don’t think so.”

“Well, maybe he just likes taking you out to places? I mean, what are your usual dates like?” Derek shrugs and lifts the pint up again. On second thought, maybe there is another reason why Derek is usually the one venting and Ed is the one patiently listening. Ed gives much, much better advice than he does.

Ed thinks the question over for a moment. “He plans for dates. But something always happens.” Ed pauses, expression distant, as he remembers aloud, “I think it rained the last time we went out of town too.” He shrugs and adds, “More often than not, we just end up having sex instead.”

Derek immediately chokes on his beer, throat burning as he coughs uncontrollably. Damn it, he forgot how straightforward Ed can be sometimes.

Ed lifts an eyebrow and reminds him, tone unsympathetic, “You told me to vent.”

“Yeah, I know!” Derek splutters and snatches the napkin Ed offers him to wipe his mouth. Before Ed can take offense, he hurriedly explains, “It’s just you never – you never talked about your sex life before, ok?”

“I didn’t really have much of one to talk about,” Ed points out.

Derek moves on and valiantly asks, “Alright. So . . . so what else?”

“After the sex?” Ed asks surprised, head tilted to the side.

“No!” Derek protests immediately. “I meant the argument. Geez.”

Ed chuckles, amused - Derek throws him a dirty look. Ed definitely did that on purpose - before he answers, “He’s upset about canceling his plans more than I think he should be.” Ed frowns and asks, “Isn’t it more important that we’re spending time with each other than where we’re going?”

“I mean, yeah. But if it’s like what you said and most of your dates turned into booty calls more or less, then maybe he just wants to take you out a proper date or something.” Derek cringes and gulps down his beer. “I don’t know, man.”

In hindsight, Ed probably should not be asking him for relationship advice. Derek does not have a good track record.

“Oh,” Ed says surprised. He leans back, expression thoughtful.

Well, since he already started . . . Derek adds, “If anything, isn’t it a good thing? That he’s trying? I mean, uh, no offense, but with his rep, I would have thought you guys never leave the bedroom.”

Ed raises his eyebrows, lips quirking up. “Are you finally approving of him?”

“No!” Derek quickly denies, nearly spitting out his mouthful of beer. He gestures wildly in the air and stammers, “How did you even – Are you drunk already?”

Ed ignores him and hums, “He’s not a bad person.”

Derek pauses, unable to contradict that statement. No, he supposes McQueen is not a bad guy after all. Ed could do a lot worse than be with someone who is apparently invested in taking him out on a date.

Derek downs the rest of his drink and says instead, voice serious, “As long as he makes you happy, Ed.”

**\+ 1.**

Derek’s eye twitches as he spies the screen of Xavier’s cell not so discreetly aimed across the street.

What an asshat.

He stalks up to Xavier from behind and slings an arm around Xavier’s shoulders.

Xavier immediately flinches and turns his head, “Who the hell –”

He stops abruptly as Derek flashes him a grin too sharp and wide to be friendly. “Yo, what are you up to?”

Xavier glowers at him and snarls, “How the fuck is it your business?”

“Funny. I was just about to ask you the same question,” Derek says darkly and wrenches the phone out of his hand.

Xavier reaches out to snatch it back and spits out, outraged, “Hey! The hell are you –”

Derek leans back and tightens his arm around Xavier’s neck in warning. He ignores the dirty look that Xavier shoots him and thumbs through the camera gallery, deleting all of the photos. He even checks the trash folder just in case.

“You okay with this, huh?”

Derek glances out across the street where Ed stands in front of the car with a soft smile on his face as McQueen gestures about something with an equally warm expression. “Yeah, I am.”

It startles him how true that sentiment rings through him.

Xavier snorts and sneers, “Don’t tell me that you’re a fag – “

Derek yanks him close, cutting him off, and threatens, voice dark with promise, “This is your last fucking warning. You pull any of this bullshit towards Ed again – No. You even _think_ about it, and I’ll have your ass fired and out the damn door before you can even fucking blink. Understand?”

He narrows his eyes and does not let go until Xavier reluctantly nods. “I mean it, Xavier,” he growls before he roughly releases Xavier.

Xavier glares at him, hand rubbing his throat, but he slips his phone back into his pocket and stalks off, no doubt back towards the subway station he originally was heading to before his shitty personality distracted him.

Derek shakes his head in disgust. He glances across the street but thankfully, Ed and McQueen are already gone.

He hums and ambles down the sidewalk, hands in his pockets. He should text Ed later today and ask for all three of them to hang out for drinks on Friday night.

Re-introductions are long overdue.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, please leave a kudos, comment, or review if you enjoyed reading!◎[▪‿▪]◎
> 
> I hope this was fun to read! This fic was inspired by the chapter where Derek was supposed to meet Ed's boyfriend but found out that it was McQueen and punched him instead. That made me go: Derek, my man, you need to be a more supportive bestie. And then McQueen's line where he told Ed that Ed had lot of people who loved him but he will be the one who loves him the most made me so soft.   
> (≧◡≦) ♡
> 
> So, once I found out W.oW. actually had a fandom here on Ao3, my rampant plot bunnies took over and gave you guys this short one-shot. Originally, I wanted this story to be five times other characters saw McQueen and Ed being cute together or alternatively, something more from the main pairing's view. But I thought it would be more meaningful if I did it in Derek's POV and show that people can become more open-minded for those they care about. 
> 
> I'm also low key obsessed with this ship lol, so I might sneak in some more one-shots. You know, to do my part to help the fandom grow here, and not at all because I have an attention span as nonexistent as Dory's memory and that's why I can never seem to finish my other fics. Nope, not at all. (⊙‿⊙✿)
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope you all are safe and well!!!ｖ(⌒ｏ⌒)ｖ♪


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